1500 breaths
by Karen Winchester
Summary: Missing scene situated in between 2x22 and 3x01 Sam is not ok, and Dean can see it. Sometimes all that Sam needs is a good brotherly love moment with Dean to feel safe and sound again Crying!Sam Protective!Dean NO Wincest! I DON'T OWN ANYTHING, SADLY :( IF YOU LIKE IT, PLEASE REVIEW :)


1500 breaths

"Breath is the bridge which connects life to consciousness, which unites your body to your thoughts. Whenever your mind becomes scattered, use your breath as the means to take hold of your mind again." ― **Thich Nhat Hanh** , **The Miracle of Mindfulness: An Introduction to the Practice of Meditation**

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"You're my big brother Dean. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, and you know that right? I am gonna get you out of this one, I promise", said Sam with teary eyes and a concerned face

"I know that, little brother. But in the meantime, what do you think if we take a little break and find a motel room? I'm beat", said Dean

"Dean… Ok. But tomorrow…"

"Tomorrow we will start moving again, I swear man. Just bear with me on this one, okay?" said Dean, interrupting him, not needing to hear the rest of the sentence to know how it was going to end. He knew Sam as much as he knew his own name.

Dean sat in the driver sit, and few seconds later Sam joined him, sitting next to him, lost in his own thoughts to notice how his older brother was looking at him. The elder Winchester was still in shock after Sam's death, and the apparition of his father, that as the strong man he had been and still was, could get out of hell to finally rest in peace. He shouldn't have suffered or be tortured. He should still be alive and kicking , with Sam by his side fighting like dogs probably. He was not worth the high price that he paid... What was his old man thinking?

He was the one that should have died; since there was no way that he could have survived after the comatose state he had been in. John sold his own soul for him, and just after a year and four months after that event, he felt that his existence was finally worth it. Sam was alive, blood circulating on his body, and breathing again. That was all that mattered, that was the only good thing that he could recall of all the recent events. Now Dean agreed with the demon to which he sold his soul to , when it said the Winchesters could not stop sacrificing their lives for each other.

After all the shit that the three of them had been through, their bonds grew and grew until they were unbreakable. Some fights could not be avoided, as any other family. Dean thought about the meaning of family as a knife that was sharp on both extremes. They could hurt you with words, or even with punches, but if someone else hurt them, that was the point where he would have to take the one of the sharp ends of the weapon and stabbed the enemy right in the chest even if he was still hurting. Family could lie, hide truths, or even kill in order to save the ones they loved. That was what he believed, and Sam did too.

In 2005, when he practically yanked Sam out of Stanford, he noticed how independent his little brother had become. He was smarter, stronger and faster than he last remembered. He hadn't needed him to survive when it came to fights or an easy case. However, after Jess' death and the still disappeared John Winchester, Sam attached to Dean like gum, knowing that he was all that he had. Dean could say that he was almost the kid that he was before he let him go to college that night, looking for protection and sometimes, orders to be commanded.

Dean decided that he was not going to give importance to those thoughts for now, and was going to drive towards the nearest motel, instead. It had been a long couple of days, and now that the yellow-eyed demon was dead, he could say that they deserved a day of laziness. It was a small but good victory that somehow gave him peace. His mother would be proud of him. The damn thing was finally dead

Two hours later, he parked his beloved Baby, booked a room for the two of them, and entered inside the small, bad painted but familiar place that he could call home.

"I am gonna take a shower", announced Sam already picking a new pair of underwear, clean sweatpants and a overused grey shirt that he liked to use as a pajama.

"Don't use all the hot water", warned Dean knowing that it didn't matter what he said, because Sam liked long showers to immerse in "thought land". Even girls took faster showers that him!

Dean counted twenty minutes since the sound of the water stopped, and when he saw that Sam was not getting out, decided to knock the door. He needed to feel clean again, and get the dry blood off his shirt, Sam's blood.

"Sam, what is taking so long man? If you are still brushing that hair of yours I am going to cut it when you are asleep"

Sam's usual response was an "I'm coming, wait a minute!", but this time there was nothing but silence.

"Sam? Are you alright?"

When he received the same silent answer, knew that something was horribly wrong. Sam had been just fine when he entered inside the bathroom.

"I am coming in, okay Sammy? You better be decent", said as he opened the door.

What he found left him frozen for a minute. Sam was shirtless and curled in a fetal position.

"Sam, talk to me" What's going on buddy?"

"Dee… I-I remembered something", said Sam with tears sliding down his cheeks.

"What did you remember?"

"Dying… I remembered myself dying… in your arms. It felt so real… like it was happening right now. When I stopped breathing, I saw my b-body and you calling my name, crying… I was desperate, calling for you. I-I didn't know what was happening… Just like the movies. I was so scared Dee"

The elder Winchester stared at him for a minute, not knowing what to answer. There was nothing that he could say to make his brother feel better, being honest. He did what he used to do when Sam had a nightmare as a kid, and couldn't stop crying.

Dean knelt next to him and placed Sam's head on his shoulder. His arms were around his little brother's upper body, protecting him from the scary thoughts that he was having inside his mind.

"Shh, it's ok Sam. That's in the past now, alright? You are fine now. I am here, I am here…"

They were half an hour in the bathroom, and sometime during those thirty minutes, Sam had a panic attack. He said with weak voice that he couldn't breathe, and that he felt like was dying all over again. Panic raised inside Dean, but he wouldn't let it show. He had to be strong for Sam, because he needed his big brother, his hero since he was a kid.

"Take a deep breath Sam. Come on. Do it for me, ok?"

"C-Can't… Dee", said Sam desperate, scratching his throat with his nails trying to breathe.

"Yes you can Sammy. Come on, I'll do as well. Inhale… and Exhale", said Dean taking his hands away from his neck, seeing how slowly but surely, Sam calmed down and went limp in his arms. He had fell asleep…

Once Dean placed Sam on the farthest bed from the door, sat down next to him, wide awake and not wanting to take his eyes off of Sam. What if he stopped breathing, or had another panic attack? What if he had a nightmare and he was too tired to notice? The poor kid was traumatized, and for a good reason.

That night Dean didn't take a bath or slept until 6 AM . He just sat on his bed, counting Sam's breaths while placing a hand on his shoulder every time that Sam moaned scared or cried. He was grateful for every breath he took. Tears slid down his face as his strong mask broke, and the stress and fear were freed from their cages inside the lucid part of his mind. He cried for hours, not loosing the count of his little brother's breaths. When he reached 1500 breaths, laid down next to him, closed his eyes for a moment, and without meaning to, fell asleep.

 **THE END.-**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic came to my mind and now I feel so sad! I love how protective Dean is with Sammy. I just love our precious boys :')**

 **If you liked the story, please leave a review. See ya soon** **J**


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